So Him.

Let it happen

hwang in-ho x reader

Chapter 3

The team your companion procured hovered around the pair of you, Eun-Shin occupying the dull minutes with endless chatter that you yearned to be deceased- the newfound team less enthusiastic about straining the cords within their neck to speak with you. Although your partnership with Eun-Shin promised neutrality, you could feel the pierce of daggers in their gazes, the X patch merely tagging you with a target, a deer in the scope of a hunter. It was ironic, considering you were the cynical one.

Your head settled against the cool frame of the beds, the vibrations thrumming through the metal to your skull, a nice distraction from the isolation. You couldn’t even blame them for it since you’d brought this on yourself by pushing everyone away, portraying a near emotionless front. For all they knew, you would throw their lives away without a second thought- and you would, you convinced yourself. After the last game, their perception of you would be lasting, but somehow, the rush dulled whenever you realized people with actual lives were dying. These people weren’t simply nobodies who lacked depth anymore, you’ve witnessed firsthand the whirlwind of emotions that consumed them- the grief, the horror, even the cruelness. What about the trembling girl from earlier- 95- pleading to everyone for a shred of mercy, to leave? It gnawed at your intricately crafted persona, something that had been engrained into your being since you were young.

“You seem bored over here,” A voice intruded your daze, clearing the fog that dwelled the crevices of your brain. You blinked, a slight surprise flickering briefly in your eyes before your head finally tilted, revealing the origins to the familiar voice- dark eyes meeting e/c ones.

A glance back at the team not so far from you, your tongue formed words, voice free of the feelings that your body teemed with, “I just have nothing to say.”

Young-Il cracked a small smile, releasing a breath of air through his nose- something about his demeanor appearing to disbelieve your answer, seeing right through that cracking persona of yours. He sat beside you, hands wrung together, elbows settled against his knees. “Our group over there is taking safety precautions for lights out,” He revealed, voice harboring a lower tone, hushed from potentially prying ears. “With the addition of another person I thought Jun-hee might feel safer, considering you two are already acquainted.”

“Jun-hee?” You repeated, the name void of memory in your mind, face revealing your lack of awareness.

His eyebrows raised, realization seeping onto his features. “222,” He clarified. “The one you brought to us earlier?”

“Oh. I remember now.”

“So what do you think? Wanna join us for the night?” Young-Il’s gaze drifted between you and your group, the one so eager to leave you secluded. Looking into his eyes, you searched for meaning and explanation behind his question- but alas, his eyes offered no translation. So you took it at face value.

“I’ll do it for her,” You agreed, finally stretching your legs after being sat for so long- trapped within your own thoughts. “It’s not like they’ll notice,” Speaking of your group, referencing their distance from you.

You followed Young-Il, his hand hovering over your back as he introduced you to the rest of the group- your name now known among the individuals apart of it. They were nice, offering a space with them, but still, you found yourself a black sheep, unsure what to say or do- unsure how willing to be. Awkward.

Lights later fell, signaling lights out had began, the six of you situated on mattresses on the floor- you laid between Young-Il and Jun-hee, back soaking in the small comfort of the bed, blanket tugged to your chest snugly. Gi-hun, you learned his name was, sat ahead of you, volunteering to keep guard first- eyes having seen the brutalities of this game once before. While you should’ve been asleep, you found yourself unable to, simply staring up at the ceiling dimly illuminated by the golden piggybank, the silence borderline deafening.

You turned on your side, facing right; where Young-Il slept, oddly sound. You shouldn’t have- you felt strange doing so- but you examined his sleeping face; the creases left from smiling throughout his lifetime, one spent joyously, and his at ease features, which were usually so stern and unrevealing- dark. He appeared at peace, the tenseness from the day’s events ebbing and allowing him to rest cozy. Your eyes then lowered, concentrating on the steady rise and fall of his chest, and you wondered how someone could be so at peace in the wake of disaster, having no inner turmoil- so confident and sure about himself, about his morals. You envied that. You envied his sureness about himself.

At that, you allowed your eyes to flutter shut, mimicking the man inches from you- copying that shred of peace tackling his face, your muscles easing. And for once, you had a decent rest.

“Your attention please. The third game will begin momentarily,” The monotonous voice beckoned from the intercoms, stirring the contestants inside, including you. “All players, please wake up and prepare to move to the game hall.”

When you awoke, you’d nearly forgotten of your predicament with Jun-hee’s group- recollecting your memory from the day prior. The previously mentioned girl blinked as she sat up, groggy and squinting from the bright lights raining down on the players, but she still managed to offer you a small smile, one that soothed your already bubbling nerves. You were unaware if you were anxious for the interrogation awaiting you- or if you were afraid of what was to come.

Rubbing your eyes, you noticed the familiar outline of Young-Il directly in front of you, having been his turn to keep watch while the rest of you slept soundly. You hadn’t even heard him move in the night, as quiet as a mouse. He dared a look back, hearing the sounds of the group’s stir- their faces soured by unwillingness to wake, eyes resting on your face briefly. As he stood, you crawled slightly forward, using the frame of the bed to hoist yourself up- hand extended to the other girl to make her attempt less strenuous.

“It was… nice.. being around you, Jun-hee, but I must return to my own group now,” You alerted, unsure how to word your time spent with the group- the kindness of your words tasting bitter on your tongue, so foreign to you. “Best of luck this game.”

And with those parting words, you slipped away to merge with the horde of people, in search of Eun-Shin, eyes skimming across the wave of contestants, each of the faces you spotted just as weary as the last.

An arm locked around yours soon enough, tugging you toward them, shoulder clashing with their’s. “What the-“ You spat, puzzled until the perpetrator’s face entered your vision. “Oh. It’s you.”

“Yep. You can’t escape me that easily,” Eun-Shin joked, nudging you with his elbow, the rest of the group to his right. They were never interested in your doings, but you weren’t very intrigued by their’s either. “How was your little sleepover, huh?”

“I just slept. Nothing more, nothing less,” You shrugged, lips smushed into a fine line, boredom plain on your features, this line of questioning gaining you no entertainment.

“Odd that he invited you over there, though,” He mumbled, his expression thoughtful- almost mockingly so. Always trying to pick apart Young-Il for reasoning you couldn’t be sure of. “Seems kinda off. What if he tried murdering you?” His hands mimicked a strangling motion before becoming firm on your shoulders, shaking you back and forth to emphasize his point.

Prying his hands from your shoulders, you responded to the notion, “There were other people there. But I didn’t go because of him, I went for 222. She’s pregnant, so… I felt a little bad,” You attempted to phrase your words less empathetic, not wanting him to believe your frozen heart had started watering. “Not for her, the baby, I mean- the baby didn’t sign up for this,” You clarified, though that sentence only appeared to cement the opposite impression.

“You know, it’s okay to care for people, but here is.. probably not the best place for that,” Eun-Shin stated, eyes flying to the other members of your group, voice lowering to where only the pair of you could hear. “Listen, you’re the only member of this team I can rely on- even if you’re a little crazy. I can’t have you dying on me. Just be careful,” Surprisingly, his statement eased the strange worry of abandonment, feeling a little more useful to them.

“I won’t, and I won’t… do anything..” You gritted your teeth, the words difficult to let out. Change proved difficult. “….crazy… anymore. At least not here while our lives are at stake.”

“Wow, you really have changed. Are you sure you’re really… 11… anymore instead of a clone?” Eun-Shin teased, a joking smile present on his face. “I’m just kidding. I’m glad you’re coming around.”

Eventually, guards escorted everyone out of the room, leading you up the colorful and seemingly endless amount of stairs- up and up you went, trudging unbearably slow up each step, Eun-Shin silent and thoughtful throughout the entire process- probably pondering the next game’s events, wondering the difficulty and severity. Even you couldn’t deny your curiosity, palms a twinge sweaty from what pulsated beyond flesh- and you shouldn’t have felt this way, with your morphing perspective, but ecstasy threatened to seize you, heart hammering and body pumping with the buzz of adrenaline. You clenched your fist, snuffing out the growing intensity- you needed to stay focused for the livelihood of your group, or else you’d easily be sidetracked by euphoria.

Everyone came to a halt at a set of cream colored curtains, which added a sense of mystique to the already anxious crowd, guards stationed in front of everyone, waiting just as you were. Curtains spread apart, the pink clad figures entered, standing on either side of the entrance while the rest of you cautiously followed, eyes darting around the sleek room to study its interior, the center piece of it a trio of galloping horses, reminding you of a carousel. Seeing your reflection in the floor, your eyebrows furrowed, your face lighter- something different in the way your eyes gleamed, sparked with will.

“Players, welcome to the third game. We will begin momentarily,” The intercom chimed. “The game you will be playing today is Mingle. I will now repeat the announcement…”

“Mingle? Do you have any idea?” Eun-Shin peered across the faces of your group, questioning if anyone had any idea about the game. You could only shake your head, “mingling” being the last thing you ever did while out in the world.

“I will now explain the rules of the game. All players will step onto the platform in the center of the arena. Once the game begins, the platform will spin. Shortly after, a number will be called out. You must then form a group that matches this number, enter one of the surrounding rooms, and close the door within thirty seconds- or be eliminated.”

“There’s the answer to your question,” You remarked, eyeing your partner, the five of you approaching the middle of the room. The horses loomed over you, being a mock to all of you down below, just within shooting range.

“Well, this one’s gonna suck,” He muttered, turning to the four staring at him, awaiting a speech- or maybe a game plan, looking to him like they were disciples in need of knowledge. “We’ll try to stick together the best we can- but I doubt it’s gonna be as simple as that, so just… no matter what number they call, don’t panic, just think first and do the most logical thing. We just have to trust one another, and we can all make it out.”

“What if she leads one of us to dying?” 30 directed a pointed glare at you, her eyes peeling from you to your companion.

Before Eun-Shin could respond, you stepped in for yourself, “I understand my actions from the game before frightened you- but I won’t do it again- or not this time. I like gambling, but…. not to the point of someone… dying.”

Eun-Shin appeared surprised at your accountability, eyes flickering to something behind you briefly- darkening for merely a second before he threw his arm around your shoulders, not revealing the sourness on his features. “Plus, we need our token crazy girl- and besides, while she may have taken a risk last game, she did it knowing she could come back from it,” He added, the group’s resentment slightly dissipating as they mulled over his words.

“I guess you’re right… I didn’t think of it that way.”

You sighed, again feeling overshadowed- your words less impactful than that of your peer. You only wallowed under his arm, beneath him as always, a tinge of envy at his ease in dominating everyone- having all of you enamored with him. The effect of extroverts.

“With that, let the game begin,” Music reverberated throughout the room, a catchy tune chorused, and the platform all players stood on jerked as it began its deathly spin- everyone wary and preparing for the moment it would stop. Eun-Shin had a grip on your wrist and 155’s, keeping each of you interlocked and close.

“Ten players.”

“We need five more people,” Eun-Shin declared, grabbing another nearby player. Nerves were scattered, panic settling among some players, the addition of flashing lights helping none- regardless, you found yourself grabbing ahold of a nearby number’s hand, tugging them toward you while the rest of your group clung to anyone near- running with haste to the nearest door once the numbers reached ten and shutting it. Each of you heaved a sigh, backs supported by the wall as a sense of relief washed over you. The game wasn’t over yet, however, so tensions still ran high.

The hand you gripped scarily tight ripped itself from your grasp, the man rubbing the aching spot, wearing a grimace on his face. “I had my own team,” He grumbled, approaching the slot in the door to peek into the open space where stragglers were left defenseless. “My friend.. She’s- She’s out there!” Frenzied pounds reverberated from the knuckles hitting metal, hands frantic against the locked doorknob. “Nari! Please..! Please…” His shouts bled into whimpers as bullets scattered, the sounds jolting you and his reaction shattering you, the tremble of your hands only slightly recognizable. The rest of you inside could only watch in silence, having nothing to say- nothing that could comfort his cries.

He turned to you abruptly, hands springing to the collar of your shirt and slamming your back into the wall, feet hovering inches above the floor- gasps escaping opened mouths at the sudden action. “You did this! Why would you do this!” He demanded, your arms drooped and demeanor showcasing your lack of willingness to defend yourself- because truthfully, you agreed.

“Hey, hey, it’s not her fault,” Eun-Shin’s hand cautiously settled on the player’s shoulder, to which the opposer removed a balled fist from your collar, jamming his elbow into Eun-Shin’s chest, causing him to barrel over, a wheeze torn from his throat. It was the first you’d seen him unable to deescalate a situation.

“It’s fine.. Eun-Shin,” You managed, the pressure against your throat leaving little room to speak, eyes flickering between the enraged expression directly in front of you and the view of your partner on the floor from the corner of your eye. “I’m… I’m sorry…”

He released you, body instantly socked to the ground, regaining all the air your lungs were deprived of for those moments, a blizzard of coughs terrorizing your throat. “I would’ve rather died out there with her than been the reason she died,” He spat, towering dangerously above you, the gleam in his eyes making your mouth go dry. “Touch me again, and your neck will be more than bruised.”

With that, the door clicked, signifying it’d been unlocked- the time until then seeming infinite under the intense scrutiny. Another female inside helped you stand, putting your arm around her shoulder as the two of you walked toward the circle, the aid something you didn’t reject as you were still blindsided.

“Are you okay? He shouldn’t have done that to a girl,” She shook her head disapprovingly, trying to soothe you, a hand on your back- Eun-Shin was busy being comforted by the rest of your group, who were more or less unaffected by the actions when it involved you. “I was scared he was gonna hit you- or any of us if we had tried stepping in. I mean- he did hit your friend.”

“It’s okay,” You sighed, gently removing your arm from around her, lessening the weight against her. “I deserved it.”

“You couldn’t have known, you grabbed anyone you could,” She comforted, a sympathetic look on her face. “Plus, if he really believed what he said, he wouldn’t have let you drag him all the way there. People in grief just need a person to blame, especially here. Everyone is scared to die.”

The tune started again, the platform spinning smoothly, but the repeated and drawn out motion made you dizzy, nausea creeping into your body as you peered further at the puddles of blood, your mind trailing back to the man. Like the woman said, he needed a person to blame- but really, was he unfounded?

“Four players.” The jerk of the platform stopping abruptly brought you back to the hectic situation, Eun-Shin’s grip on your hand causing your gaze to shoot up, “Come on, let’s go. 30, you go with 33,” The woman you had just spoken to. “We’ll meet back with you.”

Along with Eun-Shin, 155, and 77, you darted toward a door, your hands interlocked, footsteps hurried- the hammering of your heart swift and filling your ears. Opening the door revealed a man inside, trembling in fear at the sight of your group. You swallowed thickly, casting a glance at the men beside you. They looked deranged from this angle. You wished you were courageous enough to sacrifice yourself- but instead, you stayed silent.

“Sorry about this,” Eun-Shin frowned, nodding at the other two, who each took one of the man’s arms and shoved him into the chaos- something so ruthless you wouldn’t have expected it from Eun-Shin, your eyes wide, merely watching as the door slammed shut, the duo (155 and 77) guarding the door, in the chance someone would try forcing it open. His eyes fell on you, taking in your appearance. “I put the safety of our group above all. I know it’s hard, but we have no other choice. You understand, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say anything,” You defended, the gunshots a grim reminder of what would happen if you failed to make it inside. You wondered if the man, who’d nearly strangled you, survived, hoping to not summon his wrath later on.

“You were thinking it, I could tell. Come on, at this point, I need crazy you back.”

“You can’t be picky now when you almost killed us earlier,” 155 snarked, stealing a glance out the slot.

“I… understand..” You muttered.

When you exited the room, your shoulders were slumped, an exasperated sigh threatening to leave your mouth. It didn’t matter how you behaved, people were still unhappy- no matter if you said anything or kept yourself tame. What could possibly appease them? Perhaps it was for the best to act how you always did and be how you always have been. Even when you tried to do good, it only resulted in wrong.

The music’s thrum became repetitive, a childish tune used to conduct such dark acts- everyone’s nerves frayed from the amount of people dying with each round, with each countdown, the number of people to be in a room lessening.

“Three players.”

You looked to Eun-Shin, hand on the cloth of his jacket to keep him close. “Okay, okay, 11, 155, come with me, 77 and 30, find another player- quick,” He instructed in haste, the three of you running toward a door while the remainder sprinted in the opposite direction. He slung you inside, the door falling closed behind the trio. His hands were on his knees, recuperating- the flashing lights, the running, the sprinting, the mixture overwhelming.

“Are you… okay?” You questioned, eyeing him.

“Yes. We made it in, didn’t we?”

You nodded and walked toward the slot in the door, watching the guards shoot the individuals scattered about the room, pleading helplessly for the pink figures to spare them- and then you removed yourself from it all, distancing yourself little by little. You’d done it once, and you could do it again, building your cold demeanor back piece by piece, mend the melting heart and make it cold again. You would never see these people again- whether it be because you died, or because you survived.

“Scared?” Eun-Shin asked, noticing your prying eyes.

You looked at him, eyes stern and cold, something he was certain to discern. “No. You?”

“Me either,” He admitted. But you almost scoffed at the statement, believing it a lie.

Once the doors were unlocked, you stepped out, regrouping with the parting teammates. You remained silent while the others chatted a little bit, relieved to see one another alive, but you weren’t apart of that relief.

The music mocked you with its cheerful tone, the spinning leaving you in a slight daze. Your face beamed with disappointment, for a reason you shouldn’t have been disappointed for- people betrayed you countlessly, caring only for their wellbeing, it was foolish of you to believe otherwise, at least for these people.

“Six players.”

Again. Six of you scurried to a room, tensions high and aggravation settling underneath the mask of panic. More people dead- a repetitive cycle that you wondered how long would last. When would you die? How long would you last? Six players was generous this round, but when would it shift again, flipping a switch and catching everyone off guard. The blood on the floor greeted you, shoes slick with the red substance, but that had grown normal after the last game, your shoes stained with pink.

“Attention, players. The final round will now begin,” The intercom announced, slight anxiety spilling into your stomach, organs twisting into knots, the next number to be called unknown- a question of what it would be on every player’s mind. The music doing little to quell anyone’s nerves. “Two players,” The lights dimmed, the light’s enthusiastic flashing and jolt of the platform sending everyone into flight mode.

Your eyes darted to Eun-Shin, having the intention of grabbing him, but his arm was already tangled with 155’s, lips in a thin line as he blankly acknowledged your stare, haste to leave you behind. A sacrifice had to be made- and looks like he’d chosen you for that role, disregarding his earlier statement. Your eyes then darted to your last two teammates- even if it’d been one, you were aware they’d rather die with you than be in a room with you. Because of your attitude, or maybe because of the X patch.

Mouth dry, the time ticked by awfully slow as you stood there. Your face was void of panic or anger- and the thought that this would be your last day alive struck you for a moment, you weren’t fearful of it. You expected it to happen eventually, especially with a game containing such high stakes. You took a small step forward, stealing a glance back at the platform- should you just sit down and give up now? Fighting against it would be shameful.

Before you could decide, your hand had been grabbed, the sudden grip stunning you, but your reflexes acted accordingly, the pace of your feet fast. Maybe you didn’t want to die after all. You were dragged into a room, a pair of hands then firm on your shoulders once safety had been secured, causing your eyes to finally lift from the floor to your savior.

Young-Il?

“What were you doing?” He questioned, eyes fixed on you. His eyebrows were furrowed, seeking an answer, determined to find one within your expression like he were a detective attempting to crack a code. The last thing you’d expected was to be saved- your mind vacant in those moments, merely basking in gloom. “Why wouldn’t you run? Try to find someone, try to get a room?”

“I… was looking,” You defended, though the lie was blatant, and as someone who already saw through the carefully crafted persona, it was even more so- so you crumbled. “Okay… I just didn’t have anyone. I’m not scared of dying, why not accept it?”

Young-Il sighed, arms falling to his sides- seemingly disappointed. “You should value your life more,” He examined your features, the concern on his face clear, but you didn’t understand why. You wouldn’t ever understand why- but you did know him to be caring, he would react this way with anyone so willing to surrender their life. “What’s that on your neck?”

Your hand flew to your neck, the spot sore under the brush of your fingers. “Oh….” You paused, words unable to form on your tongue- all the sentences you could possibly say falling short. What would you say? “I pulled someone into a room with us, and his friend got killed… so…”

“He blamed it on you,” He finished, a noticeable grimace on his face, eyes lowering, the ideas brewing in his mind unknown to you, and for once, you wished you could know. But the mystery surrounding him drew forth a curiosity within you. The door then clicked, signaling it had unlocked- with that, the game ending. “Join my team, Y/N,” His words were less of a question and more of a demand, sounding as if he wouldn’t accept no as an answer, the door still shut.

“For Jun-hee.”

“For you,” He corrected, sending you a final glance before he finally opened the door, keeping you near to him.

His words rattled your brain, and although you yearned to be alone- to be cold, isolated, distant from connection- you stayed with him, your eyes never straying from the number displayed on his back, oddly comforted in proximity to him. Conflicted feelings arose in you, unsure how to return the group’s kindness- or how to accept it, rather. You’d been alone the majority of your life, so affection was limited, gambling and making enemies being your way of survival.

“Once we all get back, somebody should go around and do a head count,” Your ears caught the low tone of Gi-hun, whose eyes darted across the scape, cautious and noting all surroundings. His senses keener since the last time he’d been here, wary of anything and everything- and who could blame him? This was your third day, and already, you felt your sanity crumbling.

“Why?”

“If we figure out what the X and O split is, then we’ll know which of the two sides is gonna have a better shot at the next vote,” He clarified.

“Guess we have to hope more O’s died than we did,” Young-Il remarked, a condescending air to the statement that proved clear as day to you- almost as if subtly pointing out the contradiction Gi-hun faced.

Eyes traced his back, pondering the midst of his mind, the storm concocted inside- what conceived such an arrogance toward the second time player? The pair seemed strangely familiar to one another, though that was impossible, as Young-Il was just another player led astray and down on his luck, but the strive to one up- could you call it that?- Gi-hun struck you as personal. Regardless, it didn’t involve you, and you’d prefer if it remained that way. After all, Young-Il had come to your rescue, one of the few to notice and tend to you- even besides that, you were a new addition to the group, perhaps there was context you lacked.

“You seem thoughtful,” The aforementioned individual commented, nudging you gently to grab your attention.

Chin tilted up to peer at him, you responded, “It’s nothing.”

He didn’t pry any further on the matter, a trait about him you appreciated. “What was your life like before?” His question surprised you, but you were aware he probably perceived it as a simple maneuver of topic- your life having just been chaotic. “Before all of this.” His eyes glimmered with intrigue, dark but there was a lightness.

And for some reason, you answered, treating him like a sinner to a confessional, excusing the frail admission, because you were likely to never see his face again, at least someone would know you- maybe even remember you if he survived, “I gambled. A lot.”

“Is that why you’re here? Debt from gambling?”

“No… I just love gambling in any capacity,” Gaze flitted to the steps, each of them a new color- the gnawing anxiety of being judged gargantuan. Which wouldn’t be completely wrong, most of your bad decisions stemmed from it.

Young-Il nodded, his features lightly submerged in realization. “That explains the last few games,” He noted, drawing your eyes back to him. “So even your life you’re willing to gamble?”

“Yes, but they’re usually… estimated gambles. Here, at least,” You expounded, unusually talkative- you felt like you were rambling a bit. “I don’t want anyone to die because of me. But… that probably sounds like I’m lying.. You think I’ll get you killed?”

His laugh was low, eyes drifting to the floor briefly as a smile crept onto his face. “No,” He rejected, amused by the question you’d posed. “We’ll be killed anyway if we lose the games. I think I’ll take my chances.”

“I guess you’re right..”

Herded back to the room you were originally contained inside, you couldn’t train your eyes any longer to Young-Il, allowing them to wander across the room, scanning for the broken partnership that dangled you above the crushing jaws of death. He was settled among the rest of your team, gaze drooped, appearing very thoughtful and dazed.

A hand hovered along your spine, ushering you toward an area in the back- Young-Il guiding you to the spot his group claimed, feeling so meek, like a rabbit in the paws of a wolf. Uncharacteristic and strange, you reveled in the sensation, your stomach churning with a fond emotion unknown to you.

“Don’t worry about him right now,” He instructed softly, showcasing an assuring smile that bloomed spring in your stomach, butterflies the evidence of such. You’d never experienced euphoria so vivid before- is this how blossoming friendship felt? Was this the sickening sweet symptom derived from affection? You found it more addictive than adrenaline, a new sickness to fester within you.

“Okay.. I won’t,” You relented, heart hammering in your chest, fingers giving a little twitch, a part of you worried he would hear the rhythmic beating.

—

sorry this chapters a little shorter than the rest, but i wanted to get a chapter out for you guys since its been a while!! thank you so much for the support:)) hope you enjoy!!!

he shouldn’t be looking this fine btw

how we feeling ab squid game s3 trailer???

glorious ovulation or something idk

constantly thinking about the fact ali’s wife and kids probably think he abandoned them ✌️

The Last Mask (08)

Hwang In-ho/Oh Young-il/Player 001 x Reader

Chapter 08 - Distance

Story Masterlist

NEXT : Chapter 09

PREV : Chapter 07

The dormitory buzzed with the sounds of light chatter and footsteps as players moved about, their voices mingling in an uneasy hum. You lay on your bed, pulling the blanket over yourself, eyes closed in a futile attempt to block it all out. Sleep was your goal, to escape the heavy thoughts weighing on your mind, even if just until tomorrow.

The faint voice of a guard announcing that dinner would soon be distributed echoed in the background, breaking through your quiet cocoon. Then, the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears. You didn’t bother to open your eyes.

“[Your name], are you okay?” Dae-ho’s familiar voice called gently.

You kept your eyes shut. “I’m okay.”

Dae-ho sighed as well, the sound carrying his frustration. “I’m disappointed too. Jung-bae voting for O? I didn’t see that coming. I felt like screaming, ‘Sir, what are you thinking?’ at him. He agreed with us to vote for going back home just moments before the vote.”

“It can’t be helped,” another voice chimed in. You recognized it immediately as Young-il. It seemed Dae-ho wasn’t the only one who had come to check on you. Keeping your eyes closed, you listened as Young-il added, “People tend to change their minds once they’re standing at the voting counter.”

“Yeah, in a way, I kind of understood him. Because I felt that way too by the counter,” Dae-ho agreed.

A softer voice joined the conversation.

“Big sis, are you okay?” Jun-hee asked.

You finally opened your eyes, taking in the sight of Dae-ho and Jun-hee standing on the right side of your bed while Young-il lingered quietly on the left.

Turning your gaze to Jun-hee, you offered her a faint but reassuring smile. “I’m okay.”

“And we have a pregnant lady too,” Dae-ho continued, picking up where he left off. “She shouldn’t be here any longer.”

He leaned against the pillar of your bunk bed, sighing heavily. “I understood him but… what was Jung-bae thinking?”

The weight on your bed shifted slightly. You glanced down to see Young-il sitting on your bed at the far corner near your feet. His calm demeanor radiated reassurance as he addressed Dae-ho. “There’s no use thinking about it now. The votes are done. Let’s focus on staying together and winning the game again tomorrow.”

The three of them glanced in the same direction, momentarily distracted. You were about to close your eyes again when Dae-ho straightened up, his usual energy returning as he turned to you.

“Everyone is lining up to get dinner. Come on,” he said.

You shifted onto your side, pulling the blanket closer. “You guys go on ahead. I’m too tired right now.”

Dae-ho frowned, his tone firm. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach. You need to eat. We did the hexathlon for who knows how long and didn’t even get breakfast. You must be starving, so come on.”

“But I’m so tired,” you admitted, your voice muffled against the pillow. “I just want to rest before the next game.”

“Don’t be like that,” he urged. “You’ll end up weak and all skinny tomorrow.”

A brief silence fell before you quipped, “I’m trying to go on a diet anyway, so it’s fine.”

Dae-ho scoffed, waving off your excuse. “Haih, you look beautiful already. Now get up-”

“It’s okay,” Young-il’s calm voice interrupted unexpectedly. “You two go on ahead. The queues are getting long. I’ll persuade her.”

The sound of retreating footsteps followed as Dae-ho and Jun-hee headed off toward the dinner queues. The dormitory buzzed with chatter and movement, but your focus remained on the quiet presence sitting at the edge of your bed.

“You really should eat,” he said after a moment, his tone gentle. “You’ll need your strength tomorrow.”

You sighed, not turning to face him. “I’m just so done to even think about food. I wanted to go home really bad but we were outvoted.”

There was a pause before the bed shifted as Young-il stood up. His footsteps faded into the background, and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the strange ache in your chest – a pang of something like abandonment. By him.

You immediately shook off the thought. It wasn’t his fault. You were the one adamant about not eating, and he had respected your decision. You had no right to feel upset, and you certainly couldn’t blame him for the fact that you had a crush on him.

Maybe he just saw you as a friend. Someone to look out for, like Jun-hee. Nothing more. It was your own fault for letting your feelings get in the way, for reading into his kind gestures as something more than they were.

You tried to tune out the chatter and bustle of the dormitory, sinking into the quiet within your mind. For a fleeting moment, you felt yourself drifting close to sleep.

Then his voice broke through the haze. “[Your name].”

Your eyes fluttered open, the sting of fatigue making them ache. You turned your head and saw Young-il standing by your bed. In his hands, he held the evening’s dinner: a round bun and a small carton of milk.

You frowned, confusion overtaking your grogginess. You had thought he left for good after respecting your persistence.

Resting your cheek against the pillow, you mumbled, “I don’t want to eat your dinner. Don’t worry about me.”

“It’s not mine,” he said, his tone even. “It’s yours.”

Your gaze shifted to the food in his hands. He held two sets of the dinner: two buns and two cartons of milk. Surprise overtook you as you sat up slowly, your blanket slipping down. “You got two?”

“I took another set on your behalf,” he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Your eyes widened. “We can do that?”

His smile grew, and there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t.”

You blinked, completely perplexed. “Then how did you get two?”

He extended the dinner toward you again, waiting patiently.

“I know what to say to the guards. My line of work taught me how,” he said simply, leaving the specifics a mystery.

You stared at him, caught between disbelief and reluctant admiration, before reaching out to take the meal he had gone out of his way to bring you.

“Now, come,” Young-il said, gesturing toward the corner where you always hung out with Gi-hun and the others. “Let’s sit with the others.”

You glanced down at the bun and carton of milk in your hands before nodding. As you got up from the bed, you spoke to him, “But is this really all we’re getting for dinner? I thought it’d be as much as yesterday’s lunch.”

Walking side by side toward the corner, Young-il replied, “It’s a way to weaken the players and increase eliminations.”

You turned to him, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you saying the longer we stay here, the less food we’ll get?”

Young-il met your gaze, his expression thoughtful. “It looks that way. Yesterday, we had a bountiful lunch. Tonight, it’s just a bun. The pattern isn’t hard to see.”

You sighed in frustration, the weight of his words settling in. “That makes it even more important to leave this place as soon as possible.”

Reaching the corner, you were greeted enthusiastically by Dae-ho. “You two, come sit down!”

Gi-hun had sat at his usual spot at the far end, and you settled down beside him. Young-il took the place on your other side. Dae-ho and Jun-hee were already seated on the lower steps in front of you both, their postures relaxed.

You glanced around and noticed that your group was missing one member – Jung-bae. A small distance away, you spotted him tucked between the bunk beds as though he was deliberately hiding.

You assumed he felt guilty for voting O, isolating himself from the group out of shame.

You and Young-il began eating your buns in silence. Everyone in your group was eating, except for Gi-hun. His posture – legs wide, arms resting heavily on his knees – spoke volumes about his disappointment over the recent voting results.

A loud sigh from Dae-ho broke the quiet. He stared at Jung-bae’s back for a moment, chewing on his bun, before calling out to him with the familiar hyungnim honorific. “Jung-bae!”

Meanwhile, you sighed at the meager dinner, placing your left elbow on your knee and resting your forehead against your palm. Your right hand held the bun, and you murmured, “Just this bun alone won’t be enough.”

Dae-ho suddenly stood and strode over to Jung-bae. “Hey, just come back here.”

“No, no, I’m good here,” Jung-bae replied, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, come on,” Dae-ho said, grasping his arm firmly. He pulled Jung-bae to his feet and dragged him back to the group. “You should’ve gone farther away, then. It bugs me seeing you sitting there all pathetic.”

Jung-bae froze when they reached the group. His eyes darted between the three most visibly stressed members of the group – Gi-hun with his somber stance, you with your hand still resting on your face, and Young-il sitting with his legs spread, elbows on his knees, chewing silently. None of you looked at him.

“I’m sorry,” Jung-bae said, fidgeting nervously with his milk carton. “Jun-hee, [Your name], Young-il, I’m sorry. Gi-hun, I’m sorry.”

When no one responded, he continued. “I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I’ll be able to settle my debt. So-”

“Jung-bae,” Young-il interrupted, his tone calm. “You of all people shouldn’t have done it. It’s not twice as righteous.”

Young-il’s comment was a pointed reference to the meaning of Jung-bae’s name. You removed your hand from your face, took a bite of the bun, and stayed quiet.

Young-il sighed, glancing briefly at the others before adding, “But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted.”

“Right?” Jung-bae said quickly, leaning toward Young-il with a glimmer of relief. “It’s not entirely my fault.”

Dae-ho placed a hand on Jung-bae’s shoulder, his tone lighter now. “Alright, to be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn’t enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game.”

Jung-bae’s face lit up with sudden relief, and before anyone could react, he lunged forward and hugged Dae-ho head-on. Startled, Dae-ho awkwardly tried to push him away.

“You did?” Jung-bae exclaimed.

“I said I get it,” Dae-ho replied, finally managing to pry himself free.

Jung-bae turned to Young-il, sighing deeply.

“Thank you for understanding,” he said, his voice filled with gratitude. He settled on the lower staircase next to Young-il and continued, “But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn’t we? If we stick together one more time, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

He turned toward Jun-hee, his voice brimming with confidence. “Jun-hee, I’ll make sure we survive the next game-”

“The next game?”

All of you froze and looked at Gi-hun. His tone was dark. “In the next game, we might have to kill each other.”

His words sent a chill down your spine. You stared at him, horrified. Could it really come to that? Could there be games where you’d have to compete against your friends? The thought made your stomach churn. You’d barely eaten, and now even the bun in your hand felt like a weight.

Young-il’s calm voice broke the silence. “Gi-hun, that’s a bit much. There’s nothing we can do now, so let’s try to stay positive.”

Despite his attempt to ease the tension, Jung-bae had gone pale as well. He swallowed nervously, his hands fidgeting with his milk carton.

Young-il continued, his voice steady, “We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again.”

But Gi-hun’s words lingered, casting a shadow over the group. Everyone, including you, sat in heavy silence, lost in their thoughts. The idea of being pitted against your teammates felt unbearable. Your appetite vanished completely, and the bun in your hand now seemed like an impossible task to finish.

Could Gi-hun have experienced such a game in his previous run? Had he been forced to turn on a friend here? The questions swirled in your mind, filling you with dread.

Then you felt it – a hand gently resting on your knee. Startled, you looked down and saw Young-il’s hand. When you glanced up at him, his expression was warm and reassuring. He gave you a small nod toward your unfinished bun and said softly, “Eat it whole. Let’s do our best again tomorrow.”

Young-il withdrew his hand from your knee and held out his milk carton to Jun-hee. “Here, Jun-hee. You can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game.”

Jun-hee hesitated. “No, it’s okay.”

“Take it,” Young-il insisted gently. “I don’t drink plain milk.”

After a moment, Jun-hee finally accepted the milk, though her reluctance was still evident. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at the gesture. The way Young-il looked after Jun-hee was heartwarming. He must’ve been a good husband, you thought.

“Thank you,” Jun-hee said softly.

Jung-bae suddenly held out his bun to her. “Have my bread too. I don’t deserve to eat.”

Dae-ho immediately pointed at Jung-bae’s milk. “I’ll take your milk then.”

Jung-bae shot him a pointed stare, his expression caught somewhere between disbelief and annoyance.

You had just exited the women’s restrooms and stepped back into the dormitory when you saw them. Lingering near the door that connected the restroom to the dormitory stood Lee Min-jae and his two friends.

Min-jae noticed you immediately and waved. You hesitated for a moment before offering a small, uncertain wave in return. Hoping to avoid further interaction, you continued toward the corner where the rest of your group was seated.

However, your heart sank when Min-jae and his friends moved deliberately to block your path. The dormitory was vast, filled with hundreds of players, so you didn’t feel afraid. Still, you silently hoped they wouldn’t press you again.

Min-jae greeted you with a bright smile. “Hey there. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh,” you replied, feigning innocence. “Hi, Min-jae.”

He stepped slightly closer, his tone friendly. “So, are you free to hang out with us now? We’ve got a spot over there.”

He paused, gesturing vaguely toward a corner of the dormitory where his group had set up.

You hesitated, searching for a way out without offending him. “I… uh, I need to get back to my group first. They’re waiting for me.”

Min-jae’s smile didn’t waver, but there was a hint of frustration in his eyes. “It’ll just be for a little while. You can catch up with them later. Come on, I just want to get to know you better in a private spot.”

“I… I don’t know. I really should-”

Min-jae’s tone grew firmer, though he kept up his friendly demeanor. “Don’t be like that. Just for a bit. It’s just us hanging out. No harm, right?”

Min-jae’s friends were watching you intently, though their expressions remained neutral. You forced a polite smile, knowing that one wrong word or tone could create a vengeful enemy in this precarious game.

You said carefully. “Maybe later. I just need to check on my group first.”

But Min-jae’s grin didn’t waver. If anything, it grew more hardened and insistent as he stepped closer to you. “Please? Just a quick chat with us. You’ve been hanging out with those uncles all day. Switch it up for a bit.”

Before you could respond, one of his friends – the tall man with number 277 – joined in. “Yeah, come on. We’re not asking for much. Just a little time to get to know you better.”

“Exactly,” chimed in the other friend, player 304. “It’s not like we’re asking you to stay forever. Just stop by. We’ve got a good spot over there.”

Their persistence made your chest tighten. You forced another smile, trying to remain composed. “I appreciate the offer, but really, I need to get back. Maybe another time.”

“Why not now?” Min-jae pressed, his tone still friendly.

As you searched for another polite excuse, a cold, steady voice cut through the conversation.

“She said no.”

You turned quickly, your eyes landing on Young-il. He was striding toward you. His gaze was fixed on Min-jae, sharp and unyielding. Although his expression seemed calm, a quiet intensity simmered beneath the surface. The restrained fury in his eyes made you speechless. It’s like he was ready to act the moment it became necessary.

Min-jae’s smile faltered slightly, though he tried to recover. “Oh, hey. We just want to have a chat with her. It's okay, right?”

Young-il moved deliberately, stepping between you and Min-jae with an air of quiet authority. His back faced you, shielding you from them. Though his expression remained calm, there was a palpable edge to his presence that made the air feel heavier.

“You’re pressuring her,” he said evenly, his voice carrying a subtle warning. “That’s not how conversations work.”

Silence settled over the group like a heavy weight. Min-jae’s friends exchanged uncertain glances, their earlier confidence clearly shaken.

You couldn’t help but stare at Young-il’s broad shoulders, struck by the way he carried himself. He didn’t need to raise his voice or show aggression; the calm intensity in his posture spoke volumes.

Min-jae hesitated, his expression flickering between defiance and calculation, before forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. With a mock gesture of surrender, he raised his hands and said, “Alright, alright. I get it. I apologize. I didn’t realize I was being forceful.”

His attempt to glance past Young-il toward you betrayed his unease, though. He called your name softly, adding, “Sorry about that.”

Young-il held his gaze, the silence stretching as he stared at Min-jae with deliberate calm. Then, with a slight turn of his head, his expression softened as he looked at you. He gestured subtly, his voice steady. “Let’s go.”

You followed Young-il as he led the way back to the corner where your group had gathered. His stride was steady, and though he didn’t say anything, his presence alone made you feel a little more at ease. You glanced back briefly to check if Min-jae and his friends were following, but they were nowhere in sight, already lost in the dormitory’s usual buzz of activity.

Just as the two of you were about to reach your group, Young-il gently grasped your forearm, stopping you in your tracks.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

You nodded quickly. “Yes. Thank you.”

His gaze lingered on you, his tone shifting slightly as he asked, “How does he know your name?”

There was an edge to his words, though it didn’t feel like it was directed at you.

“He asked during the voting earlier,” you explained simply. “We were in the crowd, and he came over and introduced himself.”

Young-il’s eyes studied yours, moving from your left eye to your right, then briefly to your lips. You froze under the intensity of his gaze, unsure of what to make of it. After a few seconds that felt much longer, his focus shifted back to your left eye.

He finally lowered his gaze and said firmly, “If those boys bother you again, tell me.”

For a moment, you were at a loss for words. His gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, and you felt that familiar flutter in your chest, the butterflies in your stomach. He is really worried about you.

But even as you stood there, you couldn’t forget the fact that he was married. As close as you two had become, he’d never once mentioned it to you.

You averted your gaze, creating a small but deliberate space between you and Young-il.

“Thanks, but don’t worry. I can take care of myself,” you said, your voice quieter than usual.

For a moment, he didn’t respond. The pause lingered, and though you didn’t look his way, you could feel his confusion, as if he was trying to make sense of your sudden distance. Without waiting for a reply, you joined the group, sliding into the spot next to Jun-hee. Behind you, Young-il remained standing, silent and likely still perplexed.

As the group fell into casual conversation, you focused on Jun-hee, Jung-bae and Dae-ho, purposefully keeping your interactions away from Young-il. Whenever he made a comment directed at you or tried to reassure you about something, you responded with a polite smile but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, you turned your attention to someone else, engaging them in light talk to avoid any further connection.

This is for the best. For you, for him, and for his wife.

“Lights out in ten minutes,” the announcer informed, the voice echoing through the dormitory. “Please prepare for bedtime.”

Your group was in the middle of executing Gi-hun’s plan. The idea was to claim four beds in one spot to create a secure sleeping area underneath the beds and on the floor between them. Everyone had agreed to the plan, though not without a few questions.

The men were handling the heavier tasks, carrying and arranging the mattresses and securing the area, while you and Jun-hee carried pillows and blankets, standing off to the side as they worked.

“Is this really necessary? I don’t like sleeping under there,” Jung-bae said, his tone doubtful.

Gi-hun explained, “Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us.”

Dae-ho, crouching beside Jun-hee, looked over with wide eyes. “What? Who?”

Meanwhile, Young-il approached you and gestured for the pillows and blankets in your arms. You handed them to him one by one, watching as he placed them on the mattresses.

“The prize money still goes up if we kill each other,” Gi-hun continued. “It’s part of the game they designed.”

Young-il, now standing after arranging a mattress on the floor under one of the beds, spoke up, “Gi-hun, I think you’re overreacting. Even if that were true, people wouldn’t do that.”

Gi-hun’s gaze sharpened as he stared at Young-il. “In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here.”

He stepped closer to Young-il, his tone firm. “You have no idea how people can change in this place.”

You stared at them, noticing the tension in Gi-hun’s face and posture. Young-il paused before nodding apologetically. “Alright. I guess I didn’t know what I was talking about. I’m sorry.”

Gi-hun gave Young-il one last look before turning back to address the group. “We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out. I’ll take the first watch. The rest of you should decide the order.”

You exchanged glances with the others. Dae-ho was the first to speak up. “Other than that, we have to figure out who’s sleeping where.”

Jung-bae pointed to the floor between the beds. “Jun-hee should sleep here, near the wall, surrounded by beds. It’ll be safer.”

“Then I’ll take the spot under the bed beside her,” Dae-ho said, glancing at Jun-hee for confirmation. “If that’s okay with you.”

Jun-hee nodded. “I’m okay with that.”

“I’ll take the spot under the bed on the other side of Jun-hee,” Jung-bae added. “It’s best to have two ex-Marines covering your sides.”

Jun-hee smiled in response.

Young-il turned to you, his voice soft. “Which spot do you want to take?”

You paused, glancing at the arrangement before pointing to the space directly under Jun-hee. “I’ll take the middle floor.”

That left the beds on either side of you empty until Young-il spoke up. “I’ll sleep under the bed on your left. That means Gi-hun will take the one on your right.”

“Now we just have to decide the order for keeping watch,” Dae-ho said, looking around the group.

“I’ll take the second watch, after Gi-hun,” Jung-bae said quickly.

Dae-ho raised his hand. “Third watch here.”

You spoke up just as Young-il reached to grab the leftover pillows and blanket from your arms. “Can I keep watch too?”

All eyes turned to you, surprise clear on their faces.

“How about the last watch?” you added. “I can wake up early.”

Dae-ho was the first to respond. “Ladies don’t have to. You and Jun-hee should take a full rest.”

“Yeah, no need for you to worry about keeping watch,” Jung-bae chimed in. “We’ve got this.”

You hesitated, feeling their protective tone press against your resolve.

“But it’s fine if I take the last watch,” you said, lowering your gaze briefly. “I want to freshen up before the next game anyway.”

Dae-ho and Jung-bae exchanged glances, clearly about to argue, when Young-il’s calm voice cut through. “Okay, you take the last watch.”

Everyone turned to him in confusion, while you blinked at him in surprise. Young-il glanced at the others briefly before settling his gaze on you.

“I’ll take the fourth watch, after Dae-ho,” he said evenly. “Then it’s your turn. But I’ll keep watch with you. It’s not safe for you to do it alone.”

The group nodded in agreement and that was the end of discussion. You, however, stayed quiet, your thoughts swirling. Young-il’s calm decision left you unsettled. The idea of him accompanying you brought a flutter of nerves you couldn’t quite suppress. You’d been trying to create some distance, to remind yourself of his marriage. Yet here he was, volunteering to accompany you.

It left you torn. A part of you appreciated his thoughtfulness. But another part of you couldn’t shake the complicated feelings his actions stirred, leaving you wondering how you’d handle the quiet hours of your shared watch.

A few minutes passed as the six of you settled into your designated spots. The announcer’s voice broke through the murmurs in the dormitory to announce bedtime. Moments later, the lights switched off, leaving the soft golden glow of the half-filled piggy bank overhead to dimly illuminate the vast room.

Dae-ho and Jung-bae were already lying under the beds, while Jun-hee rested on the mattress positioned on the open floor between them.

“This sucks,” Jung-bae muttered from his spot. “Feels like I’m hiding under my old desk at school.”

Dae-ho chuckled softly. “Pretend it’s a fun sleepover. We’re just missing the snacks and ghost stories.”

As their quiet exchange continued, you glanced over and noticed Gi-hun was sitting at the front, keeping watch.

Then, you felt a presence close beside you. Turning your head, you saw Young-il crouched beside you on your mattress on the open floor. He paused, glancing at you apologetically as he moved to sit down.

“Sorry,” he muttered, referring to him intruding your space.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

Young-il shifted onto the edge of your mattress before sliding onto his own spot under the bed beside you. You watched as he settled in before you finally lay down and pulled the blanket over yourself.

The space felt smaller now, the awareness of his presence lingering. You never thought you’d be this close to him, sharing such confined quarters. But as the thought crossed your mind, you pushed it away quickly. He’s married. You shouldn’t let yourself think about him like this.

You closed your eyes, wishing for sleep to come quickly and pull you away from your restless thoughts.

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Let it happen

hwang in-ho x reader

Chapter 001

Danger appealed to you. The adrenaline that flooded your veins, and the rattle possessing your bones, in tandem with nauseating discomfort, served as sweet side effects that enhanced your addiction, the craving for more. You allowed fate to steer your path—toying with actions and their consequences.

Gambling had become a hobby of sorts, but lately, it’d grown dull to you, lacking the risk that once kept you entertained, a monotonous back and forth of losing money and easily gaining it back, recycling the same old tricks used by the same old people. You sought a higher price.

It was no surprise when you accepted a suited man’s invitation to play a game of ddakji, hands comfortable around the red-colored piece, eyes drifting between your opponent and the blue origami settled against the subway floor.

Normally, a child’s game would be the last thing to entice you, but this game included a catch; if you triumphed, 100,000 won would be gifted to you, and on the flip side, something that beckoned your interest more so, if you were defeated, you would be rewarded a slap—a potentially painful consequence. You’d have to see.

Exerting no effort, fate being the one to decide if this round was your loss or his, you threw the paper onto the blue piece, the red failing to flip the blue. Eyes lifted toward your opposite, you pointed to the side of your face, tapping your cheek expectantly—a slight thrum in the rhythm of your heart’s beat, a delightful sensation of wait and adrenaline.

The rough texture of his hand to your cheek caused a dull throb, the area tarnished by a pink outline of his hand, the color and pain spreading throughout the skin, nerves seething. Your lips twitched upward for the briefest moment, crouching to retrieve the red piece before regaining your previous position, flipping the ddakji tile around in your hand.

“Not bad,” You compliment, slamming the tile onto the other, successfully flipping it with ease. Your eyes glimmered with mirth, meeting the male’s entertained stare. True to his word, he placed a stack of cash in your palms, an unfaltering smile stretched across his features.

“There are more games just like this,” He spoke, words smoothly cutting across the silence of the station, fingers sliding a beige card from his pocket and extending it toward you. “The risk you want, it’s there, and money? That’s there too.”

You were never one to turn down an opportunity for risk and adventure, anything to quell the thirst for a rush. The card displayed three shapes on the front, an ominous trio of a circle, triangle, and square. Flipping it over, a number was listed, aligned with an unknown symbol.

The mysteriousness surrounding the circumstances lured you in, ensnaring you like an animal—and you found yourself dialing the number later that night, in the darkness of your room and the comforts of your sheets. Back propped against the wall, legs sprawled across the mattress, you lifted the phone to your ear, ears awaiting instruction.

Once the other line answered, they posed the question of if you were interested in joining the game—which should’ve been evident, as you were calling. Nonetheless, you affirmed that yes, you wanted to partake. Questions brewed in your mind, the process of reaching this game was so concealed that it made you ponder—reaching the conclusion that yes, like the man earlier stated, it did offer risk, perhaps more risk than you’d ever taken. But that theory only solidified your decision to join.

“First and last name. Date of birth,” The monotonous voice requested, focused solely on the given task. The user on the other side of the line exchanged no information, nothing that clarified the happenings that occurred within these ‘games’.

“[Y/N] [L/N]. [DOB],” Your head wavered slightly, tipping to the side, fixated on the traces of light seeping inside beneath the crack of the door, which seemed unusual—you didn’t recall turning them on, as you had immediately retreated to your room.

Your attention swiftly returned to the call as the voice began to list an address, accompanied by the date to be there, scribbling the digits and letters on a slip of paper and tucking it inside the page of a book. The call ended shortly after, relinquishing your focus on that matter and directing it to the lights.

Without hesitation, you strode to the door, brandishing a pocket knife that you kept hidden within the hold of your fingers, using your free hand to swing the door open. It wouldn’t be the first time that someone broke in, angered by a loss in gambling—their sums of money yours to surrender to debt.

“If you’re in here, it’s best you just stop hiding,” You coaxed, feet padding softly against the floor as you carefully crept down the hallway, fist clenching around the pocket knife. “You really don’t want to start something you can’t finish.”

Something slammed into your head suddenly, stance stumbling back in surprise and colliding with the cold floor despite futile attempts to grip the wall, clutch on the weapon never ceasing. You peered up at the perpetrator, recognizing the features instantly.

“Knew it,” You muttered, standing up, a throb resonating from the back of your skull. “What do you want? Your money back? We played a game, fair and square. You just.. happened to lose,” Your shoulders casually lifted momentarily in a shrug, unbothered by the crowbar directed at your face. Now this was the risk you truly adored about gambling.

Shaky hands wielded the crowbar, sweat glistening on the man’s face. “I need the money—my money- back,” He demanded, mustering a sharp glare that couldn’t intimidate the weakest. You eyed him. “Show me where my money is.. o-or else,” He waved the weapon, to further demonstrate his willingness to use it on you, completely desperate.

“Why? You practically pushed the money into my hands,” You laughed as you slipped the knife further into your sleeve. “If you can’t accept the consequences of gambling, then don’t do it,” You released a sigh, arms dropping to your sides. “Oh, well, looks like I have no other choice, huh?”

“Tell me where the money is,” He ordered, this time his voice held more confidence at the indication of him having the upper hand. He gestured you to move using the object, raising an eyebrow. “Now.”

“I’m moving, I’m moving,” You raise your hands, turning around and continuing to walk, guiding him into the lit kitchen. Your hands grazed the counter, pocket knife gliding softly onto the surface, back facing the intruder, simultaneously shielding the knife block from his sight.

“Is it in here?” He questioned, eyes anxiously darting around.

“Can I ask you something?” You spoke, silently unsheathing one of the gleaming blades, examining your reflection in the shining silver. You didn’t waste a moment in wait of a response, continuing regardless, “What made you decide to gamble all that money, and why do you now want it back? What makes you resort to violence to get it? After all, you lost a game you wanted to play.”

A glance back at him, you could witness the tremble your words elicited from his body, fingers loosely wrapped around the object from the intense quiver in his hands. “My… mother… She’s sick. It was her money I used, it’s… only right,” He nearly whimpered, knees threatening to give out. “I know I’m a bad person, but… she isn’t. She doesn’t deserve that.”

You turned around, knife hidden behind your back. His words struck a chord that rattled your brain, bringing you back to the memory of your late parents and how deathly they appeared in their last moments. You recalled being penniless and in shambles, unable to prevent what happened in any way.

You frowned, staring at his crumpled form before yanking the weapon from his hands without any difficulty. You tossed it aside, kicking him down and aiming your knife at his neck, the blade digging into the skin slightly. “If you’re lying to me, I will gut you,” You gritted out, the edge of the blade summoning a single drop of blood.

You straightened your back, bruises blossoming across the plump flesh of his face as it received a few hard kicks, tears escaping his squinted eyes, although he never attempted to defend himself. “Don’t make me feel bad, you hit me first…” You muttered, a foot prodding his face, a pout tugging down your lips.

Leaving him alone in the kitchen, you entered your room to retrieve the money, strings of incoherence grumbled out as you scavenged the drawer, fiddling with the key to unlock it. When you returned, you dropped a stack of cash onto his chest, his body under intense scrutiny by the intimidating blade. “Now get out. Or I’ll kill you right now,” You stated coldly. “Don’t force me to make a lesson out of you.”

He scrambled to his feet, a clumsiness in his hurried movements, head bowed and hands lifted in surrender, tearing the front door open and hastily exiting, leaving behind an eery silence that consumed all. Your head swiveled from side to side, dismissive of the situation—consequences of your actions, you supposed.

Days passed in haste, the time blurring together, until it reached the given date. You endured the cold, jacket hugged close to your frame, patiently waiting for something to happen, for someone to appear. Eyes traced the barren street, shooting down to your lit phone screen.

You scrolled through empty messages, aimlessly, distracting yourself. You lacked attachments and connections within the world, in constant solitude, and that’s truly why you were so willing to participate, so willing to risk your wellbeing for something you knew nothing of. The money wasn’t what enticed you, it was the danger that was alluring.

A car paused in front of you, drawing your attention. You approached the window, announcing your name for the masked driver. The door to the backseat slid open in confirmation, inviting you inside. You crawled into the vehicle, noticing others were unconscious in the seats, deep in the slumber that consumed them. You relaxed in the seat, head comfortable.

Smoke soon filtered into the car, emitting from the vents, creating a fog of the interior. You struggled to breathe, throat tight, eyes beginning to squint wearily before falling shut entirely, the same, deep slumber possessing your body, settling limp in the seat.

When you awoke, your eyes were confronted by a bright light that encompassed the spacious room, classical music spilling into your ears that engulfed the entire room. A soft grumble left your mouth, pushing yourself up and slinging your legs over the edge. You stretched your arms, the drowsy effects taking their time subsiding.

Observing the room, everyone bore a striking resemblance—by the simple fact that they were all dressed in green tracksuits, varying in numbers. You peeled your eyes away, directing your attentive gaze to the number assigned to you. Eleven.

You scrambled out of bed, trailing down the steps to stand and watch the crowd from afar, shoulder pressed into the metal bar that framed the stack of beds. People appeared to congregate amongst each other, each individual just as confused as the next.

A loud buzzer sounded, the doors at the center of the room opening with them, revealing numerous figures, attire pink and faces masked, each marked with a shape—the same trio of shapes symbolized on the card. They summoned everyone’s attention with their entrance.

“I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you,” Greeted the square guard, center of them all, voice warped and unidentifiable. The anonymity of their front—and authority—stood out to you, head falling forward to analyze the figures closely, still desiring to maintain distance from everyone.

“Everyone here will participate in six different games over six days. Those who win all six games will receive a handsome cash prize,” The instructions were simple, almost too simple for you.

“Excuse me,” Shouted someone in the swarm, everyone’s eyes drifting to the individual, who stepped down from the platform, appearing more visibly. Eyes lowered to the patch on her chest, reading 120. “You said I’d be playing games, but you practically kidnapped me. So how can I believe that?”

“I apologize. Please understand that it was necessary to maintain the game’s security.”

“What’s with the mask then?” Another woman mentioned, tilting her head to the side, lips tugged down and arms crossed. “Is your face also a secret?”

The male situated beside her agreed, eyebrows pressed together, a slight irritation twinged their tones, a reasonable irritation given the unusual circumstances. “Yeah, why are you hiding your face?” He added. “Is this some kind of illegal gambling house?”

Being a gambler yourself, you knew not even they followed these measures. There was something more behind this than mere games—a hidden catch that would surely stun everyone, but you arrived prepared for the worst. Bordering on debt, living day to day, being attacked in your own home—how could life get any worse?

“Even the dealers don’t cover their faces in those places.”

“To ensure fair gameplay and confidentiality, it is our policy not to reveal the faces and identities of staff. Please understand,” The guard recited, the policy arousing suspicion within the crowd.

“Did you take off my clothes and put these on me?” A girl lifted her jacket into the air, harboring an accusatory tone.

“What’s with these shoes? My shoes are limited fucking edition,” Purple hair entered your view, the displeasure on his face evident, a white shoe being the center focus of his statement. “They’re hard to find. You gonna replace them if they get ruined?”

“These don’t fit and the color sucks,” Griped the previous girl, lip jutted. Her eyes shifted to the guards, eyes lighting up in realization, a smile spreading on her features. “Can I just have what you’re wearing instead? The pink is cuter.”

“I’m sorry, but that is not possible. You must be in your uniforms for the games,” He declined, being the enforcer of rules.

“What about my phone-?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a step back and settling on the stairs, face supported by your palm to study the stir of the crowd. You were thoroughly brought to boredom by the superficial complaints, blocking the voices from your mind until a loud slap reverberated across the room. You scooted closer to view the video projected on the screen.

“—Age thirty, used to run a YouTube channel called MG Coin. After convincing subscribers to invest in a new crypto coin called Dalmatian, causing losses of approximately 15.2 billion won, you shut down and disappeared. You’re wanted for fraud and for violating telecom and financial investment laws. Current debt level: 1.8 billion won,” The guard challenged, videos of players being slapped plastered across the screen, the figure reciting each outspoken player’s debts for all to hear.

“Player 100, Im Jeong-dae, 10 billion won in debt,” The final announcement elicited gasps, astounding everyone with the large amount, the highest debt in the room quite likely. Your eyes tore through the crowd, searching for the man as was everyone else.

“What are you looking at?” He shouted, startling the people around him, a scowl staining his features. “Do you think it’s easy to get a 10 billion won loan? They don’t lend that kind of money to just anyone, only to those who are capable of paying it back!”

“Yet you haven’t,” You voiced sardonically, the crowd’s attention unexpectedly in your hands. You gestured casually, unbothered by the stares. “All of you are in here for the same reasons, really,” The crowd began to grumble amongst themselves, debating your words between one another.

“All of you in this room have crippling debts and are now on a cliff-edge,” The guard affirmed, providing evidence to your claim. “When we first came to you, you did not trust us either. But as you know, we played a game and gave you money as promised. And so you trusted us and volunteered to participate according to your own free will. You have one last chance to decide,” There was a pause in their sentence, allowing everyone to mull over the words carefully. “Do you want to live like a piece of trash, running from creditors, or will you seize the opportunity we are offering?”

The lights dimmed and sounds echoed from above, a golden, hollow pig emerging from the ceiling. The golden hue that emanated made it appear more majestic, more enticing.

“What you see now is the piggy bank where your valuable prize money will be stored,” The guard revealed, using the sight to persuade the players further. “After each of the six games you will play, the prize money will accumulate in this piggy bank.”

“How much is the prize money?”

“The prize money for the games is 45.6 billion won in total.”

“And one of us will get it?”

“We will give you the details about the distribution of the prize money after the first game,” The guard explained. “For these games, you will be given a special new advantage.”

“What is it?” Interrupted 100, heads turning to spare a glance at the old man.

“After each game, you will be given a chance to vote on whether the games continue or not,” They clarified. “If the majority votes to stop the games, you can leave with the prize money accumulated up to that point.”

“Are you saying that we’ll still receive the money, even if we leave after the first game?” A player interjected, your eyes shooting toward them. 456.

“That is correct.”

Eventually, after the initial shock diminished and scribbling your signature on a consent form, you traveled through the building in a line, stopping to take an identification photo. Your lips quirked, portraying a knowing smile as the camera flashed, unperturbed. You continued following the line up the staircase that felt as if it would never end, spirals upon spirals. Patterns of taunting color lined the walls, making for a colorful palette.

Another player, 25, cozied himself beside you, choosing to fill the uncomfortable silence and quell his nerves with idle chatter. You had met these types of people before—who wouldn’t have anything to do with you until it served them purpose. But you decided to play nice and entertain him, it didn’t affect you really.

“What do you think the game will be?” He asked, eyeing you curiously.

“No idea,” You shrugged as you maneuvered through the hallway. The curved paths seemed to go in every which way, it would be easy to find yourself lost. Your answer induced a sag in his shoulders, disappointed at the lack of awareness they harbored going into this, but they did sign up for it.

“It can’t be that bad, though. The ddakji dude, you remember?” Twenty-five nodded along to your statement, recalling the individual. “He said they have games like that, so it can’t be anything but child’s play. The game itself doesn’t matter to me as long as it has an edge to it.”

“Shouldn’t you be hoping it doesn’t-? I mean, the easier it is to win the more likely you’ll get the money,” He argued, an eyebrow raised.

“Come on, you can’t be that dumb,” You shook your head, eyebrows furrowed at your opposite, his lips reacting with a frown to your comment. “They’ll make these games as hard as possible to prevent anyone from reaching that cash. Think about it, what person is gonna hand out that type of money so easily?” You persisted in your journey, the pair of you treading the stairs, legs coated in a dull ache. “You should accept that this won’t be easy, life never works that way.”

“Maybe, you’re right,” He sighed, ending the conversation of his own volition. You didn’t mind that conclusion.

Soon after, the players were ushered into an open space, the sight of a large—robotic?—girl greeting everyone, as the monotone female voice overhead welcomed them all into the area and instructed them to wait on the field.

You examined the terrain, the closest you would get to being outside for a few days. The walls were decorated realistically, but not enough to convince anyone they were authentic—only the sky above could be believed, the birds in the sky serving as witness to the happenings.

“Looks like a doll, do you have any ideas now on what it could be?” Twenty-five questioned, a finger aimed at the object, a soft glare shot his way from you.

“How would I know? It’s not everyday you see this type of shit,” You retorted, hands stuffed into your jacket pockets as your neck craned to inspect the doll. “Is there any game you know that involves a giant robot doll?”

“No-“ He was cut off by the doors slamming behind them, shocking the crowd, his attention captured by the sound.

“The first game is Red Light, Green Light.”

“That’s not so bad,” Twenty-five muttered beside you, you could hear the relief in his voice. You weren’t satisfied with the announcement, knowing there had to be more beyond just a kid’s game—could it really be as simple as that? He nudged your side with his elbow, sharing a small smile. “Looks like you might be wrong about this one.”

You scowled. “I wouldn’t be so relaxed yet. You never know what hurdles they might add.”

“Cross the finish line in five minutes without getting caught,” The voice further instructed, though you were sure most didn’t need an introduction to the game.

“Everyone!” Shouted a man, who’d pushed his way to the very front. You recognized him from earlier—456. He waved his arms, gathering everyone’s concentration. “Everyone, listen up! Pay attention!” His yells silenced the field. “Listen carefully! This is not just a game. If you lose the game, you die!” His speech sparked your curiosity, abandoning twenty-five to be in the front, keen to listen to his words.

“We’re going to die playing Red Light, Green Light?” A player scoffed, expression incredulous.

“Yes, that’s right! If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot you from somewhere!” He shouted, attempting to convince the players. “If you get caught, you die!” He pointed to the doll stationed at the finish line. “That doll’s eyes are motion detectors!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I think he’s trying to scare us, so he can win the prize money,” A murmur of agreement washed over the crowd.

“You should listen to what he says. Who would give money away so easily, there’s always a catch,” You raised your voice, defending the man’s statement despite the insanity it reeked. Irritated eyes flew to your direction. “You think a billionaire is gonna empty their pockets for ‘trash’ like us for no reason?”

“That’s insane! It sounds like a movie,” One sneered, the posse he’d accumulated regurgitating various excuses to one another, lies to comfort themselves from the potential truth.

“If you die, there’s no one to blame but yourself,” You sighed, arms crossed over your chest. They were a herd of sheep, used to monotony, believing everything they were fed.

The whirring of the doll’s movements commanded your attention, the machine spinning around to face the tree and resting a hand against the bark. The sight felt unreal to you.

“Don’t be alarmed or panic!” Called 456 again, his expression showing his determination and seriousness about the matter, which lead you to believe him. His eyes brimmed with sincerity, and you could tell his eyes had been testimony to this before, a witness to something truly horrific. Even beyond his eyes, his face was extremely gaunt, and it seemed as though he’d not been sleeping properly. “No matter what happens, do not panic and start running!”

“Let the game begin,” With that, the timer flicked on, the numbers boldened with red, and the girl began her chant.

“Green light,” Everyone carefully took forward steps, a slight worry dwelling the back of their minds about 456’s words—his words only ignited a rush within you, heart thrumming in anticipation of what could come.

“Red light.”

“Freeze!” He shouted to reaffirm that everyone stay completely stalled, paralyzed in their positions as the mechanical head whipped around, dark eyes scanning each of you. How well, you weren’t sure, the distance between you being a great one, but regardless, your motions stilled.

“Well done! You just need to stay calm like this!” He guided, maintaining his stance. You weren’t far from him, studying him from the corner of your eye, intrigued by his persistence—after everyone labeled him an idiot, scoffing at his claims, he still persisted. “We just have to move and stop at the right time then we can all win and survive together!”

“Green light.” Again, everyone cycled forward, making a rush to stride toward the finish line, feet digging into the sand to halt when it announced red light.

“Freeze! Don’t move and stay still! Just relax!”

You were toward the front, as still as a statue, not even allowing yourself a breath. The time ticked, a countdown that hammered stress into the players. You found the situation entertaining—no one had the courage to move even a muscle and test 456’s theory despite their barrage of insults. Idiots.

Everyone migrated like that for a bit, running as it declared green light and stopping abruptly as it announced red light, a back and forth that didn’t break until a gunshot infiltrated the air—the first contestant to die before them, just as 456 claimed, bodies slamming cold against the dirt.

“Nobody move!”

Not an ounce of sympathy inhibited your body—you didn’t have any connection to them, and they likely weren’t keen to 456’s words; otherwise, they wouldn’t have moved. This only furthered your interest, curiosity bubbling, pondering the next games—was it sick to slightly enjoy this, bearing a risk in every step made.

More shots followed, ringing out as screams echoed throughout, players retracting from the area instinctively, to hide from the bloodshed and violence, which only resulted in their own blood shed.

“No! Don’t move!” 456 reminded, desperation in his voice, yet still, people attempted to flee, gunshots ensuing shortly after. “Stay still!”

Your eyes struggled to keep entertained by the view in front of you, not wanting your eyes to stray toward the casualties littering the sand. Your ears deafened to the shrill sound of bullets, the pound of your heart reverberating across your skull, palms a heap of sweat, veins pulsing with adrenaline—the symptoms an addictive mixture.

Death lingered feet from you, daring anyone to make the irreversible decision to move, the crimson-stained sand proof of what would occur. Death never frightened you, though, and if that was your luck, to die here, you would bear it, having nothing to live for anyway.

“Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, “green light”. If it shouts, “red light”, and your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated,” The overhead voice repeated, the word eliminated being more than described, the irony made you want to laugh.

“Green light,” Everyone remained still, but you challenged them by marching forward, unaffected by the mess of red behind you, needing to continue progressing—there was a finish line for a reason. Your motions abruptly halted when the latter was proclaimed, adrenaline offering a sweet high to occupy you. The risk was truly unlike any other.

You continued this cycle for two more rounds before everyone began to mimic the actions, huddling closely together in lines, as 456 instructed. Rather than guarantee your safety by using someone else as a shield, you were positioned ahead of them all, in the center-front of the crowd, in a situation where you could easily become a target.

Eventually, your feet slid across the finish line, kicking up sand with it. You congratulated yourself for being the first player across, without any aid, heart thrashing at the thought of the risk the future games burdened. Were they going to be easier- worse?

More people crowded behind the finish line, relief coursing their veins, falling flat onto the sand, shouldering such heavy relief, as the first game wrapped up.

Twenty-five’s knees were bent, strands of hair clinging to the sweat on his face, accepting deep breaths into his lungs greedily, recovering from the stress. He sauntered toward you—why, you didn’t know, you weren’t friends. A hand patted your shoulder, half leaning into you for support. “You… You…” He heaved, struggling for breath, chest overwhelmed. “You were right.”

You snorted. “That guy knew about it before me,” You flicked a thumb toward 456, who’d guided everyone, raising their chances of survival.

“Why did you decide to go ahead?” He asked, plopping onto the sand beside you, bafflement glimmering in his eyes, knees hugged to his chest. You decided to sit beside him, criss-crossed, resting your elbows on your knees—finding there was nothing else to do while waiting for everyone to cross the finish line, the time ticking.

“Because I don’t care what happens,” You answered, eyes flickering from the field and your opposite, unsure why you were even responding. “You shouldn’t be worried. Just trust yourself and nothing will happen.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Twenty-five grumbled. “It’s hard to accept that you could just die any second, especially from something like a children’s game.”

“I guess,” You shrugged, glancing toward 456, who yelled to the stragglers remaining on the field, encouraging them. “We’ll see what the vote says.”

“Hey,” Twenty-five shook you, interrupting your observing of the field, watching for what would happen next. “What are you gonna vote? To stay or leave?”

Your lips thinned, pressed together as you mulled over the question. “To stay. I think,” You pondered, tone questioning. Truthfully, you were at a loss, 456’s words ringing in your mind, but you weren’t one to be vulnerable. “I don’t really care about anyone here, not even myself, so why would I care if they die?”

“You must really need that money, then, huh?” He snorted, somehow unbothered by the statement, perhaps he could understand the reasoning.

“Sure,” You nodded, aware your debt troubles weren’t nearly as bad as the others—simply floating the line between debt free and debt full.

“Look at that,” Twenty-five’s finger aimed at the field. Turning, you witnessed 456, along with 120, rushing toward the finish line, a wounded man- 444- smushed between them, his arm’s draped around their necks as he limped, their teeth gritted, perspiration evident on their features, the time ticking closer to zero.

You leaned forward, concentrated on watching the scene unravel—stunned, in a way, that they could act so selflessly, a trait you could only wish to possess. Your eyebrows furrowed, nails digging into your palms, a part of you hoping they succeeded. They looked so determined.

The trio fell across the finish line, a second to spare, an exhale leaving your mouth. “That was close,” You breathed, twenty-five wiping the sweat from his forehead, murmuring an agreement.

One last shot fired, deeming 120’s and 456’s risk useless, 444’s body collapsing, blood spilling onto the sand. They truly weren’t letting anyone through easy, one mistake and you’re out.

A noise from above redirected everyone’s attention, the ceiling emerging and concealing the outside as it shut, the severity of everything settling on everyone’s shoulders—unsure faces peering around.

Back at the dormitory, silence swallowed the entire room, everyone shocked by the events, questioning the reality that revealed. You were seated on a stair, quiet as everyone else, near another girl, patch reading 222. She used the frame of the beds to support her head, hands clasped, thumb gliding across her knuckles. Examining a little more closely, you noticed a subtle bulge within her clothes, quick to avert your eyes—pregnant in this situation?

“What’s your name?” Twenty-five whispered, scooting in beside you, a semblance of relief at the disruption of the silence, though you weren’t too fond of his comfortable-ness. A perplexed expression saturated your face, an eyebrow raised.

“Why do you need my name?”

“Well, I don’t wanna just call you by a number,” He said it as if it were obvious. And maybe it was. But you didn’t want to form a semblance of connection to anyone, it would only weaken you. Spending the majority of your time secluded, close with enemies and distant to friendship, it became natural, to be just one—you were all you needed.

“It’s fine, is it really that big of a deal?” You groaned, frowning, head cocking back briefly. “After these games, we won’t have anything to do with each other.”

“You never know, we might make it out of here as friends,” He defended, letting go of an exhale. You glared at the wall, so you wouldn’t be forced beneath his scrutiny, silently listening. “My names Eun-Shin, whether you tell me yours is up to you, but I don’t wanna be called a number for days on end.”

You contemplated, focused on collecting the fragments of your thoughts, piecing them together. Silent for a long moment, his statement puzzling your brain, you finally acknowledged him, expression nearly deadpan.

“My names-“

A buzzer sounded, stirring them from their conversation, alerting that the doors were opening, a multitude of guards entering. Terror struck the people, scrambling to their feet, creating as much distance as possible between them. You stayed still, quiet.

“Congratulations for making it through the first game,” The guard spoke, tone lacking anything joyful. “Here are the results of the first game,” On cue, the numbers on the screen lowered—down one digit to the next. “Out of 456 players, 91 have been eliminated. 365 players have completed the first game. Congratulations again for making it through the first game.”

“Sir! Please don’t kill us!” An older woman pleaded, yanking a male along with her, fright evident in her features. What normal person wouldn’t be afraid, there was so much left unknown. She dropped to her knees, pleading vivaciously. “Please don’t kill us, I’m begging you!” She bowed her head, as if in repent for sins that she didn’t commit. “As for my son’s debt, I will do whatever it takes to pay you back! Please forgive us!”

Hands latched onto her son, dragging him into the floor with her. “Don’t just stand there. Beg for his forgiveness,” She scolded, continuing to bow, cries escaping her throat.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me,” The son included, hands cupped together in plea. “I promise I’ll pay it back!”

“There seems to be a misunderstanding-“

Multiple people joined the pair on the floor, pleading to the figures to spare their lives. Twenty-five—Eun-Shin—remained beside you, eyebrows creased in concern for the other players. You faced the spectacle, the tiniest lurch of sympathy gnawing your stomach, even potentially second-guessing your choices. To stay or leave. Biting back empathy, you reminded yourself these people wanted to be here—hell, they signed their name on the dotted line just like you did.

“We are not trying to harm you,” Assured the guard, which didn’t ease anyone’s anxieties, after witnessing the exchange outside. “We are presenting you with an opportunity.”

“Clause three of the consent form,” 456 pointed out, voice loud enough for all to hear, approaching the front of the crowd, heads turning to observe the encounter. “The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Correct?”

“That is correct,” The square gave a nod.

“Then let us take a vote right now,” The player demanded.

Everyone clustered at the back, the decision of pressing O or X bringing you dread. O, you told yourself, another fraction of you reciting X. Thankfully, time was in your grasp, as your number would be one of the last few to be called—the voting starting with 456, rather than 1, and unsurprisingly, his palm landed on X, decision having been solidified from the start.

Eun-Shin was no where in your sight, but standing beside you happened to be 222. Glancing at her, your mind debated which button she would press. Recalling her circumstance, the answer was clear, she would likely vote to leave. But you didn’t know her, you weren’t obligated to vote for the wellbeing of others, so you tended solely to your own motives—others’ blind belief not your mistake.

“Are you okay?” Whispered the girl beside you, 222 sparing a glance at you, half of her focus on the votes. Her voice surprised you, shattering your daze.

You eased your muscles, softening the clench of your fists, heart beating so rambunctiously you wondered if she heard it. “Yeah, why?” Your demeanor appeared less than frantic, small mannerisms being the only indication otherwise.

“You looked tense,” She answered, sharing a brief, tight-lipped smile to signify she meant no harm. You managed one in return, facing the front with your thoughts even more discombobulated—pity, or maybe empathy, coiling around your heart.

“Wait a minute, everyone! Wait” 456 interjected as they reached the halfway mark, the purple-haired player, the one who droned about his shoes, having just casted his vote. Your eyes flew to the source. “You can’t do this. Come to your senses! Don’t you see? These aren’t just any games. We will all die if we keep playing!” His arms gestured wildly to showcase his desperation to get the point across, eyebrows drawn close. “We have to get out of here now. With a majority vote, we can! We must stop here!”

“Who do you think you are?” 100 stalked to the opening in the middle, shouting out, irritated. “Why do you keep egging people on like that? You scared us by saying they’d shoot us before the game even began!”

“That’s right!” A female agreed, stepping forward. “He was going on about how we’d die, and I almost did, because I got so nervous!”

“How did you know they were going to shoot us?” Another player pointed an accusatory finger at 456, something that made your jaw clench, encouraging you to brush through the crowd, so you could be at the center of the action. The conflict oddly exciting to you. “Are you one of them?”

“Are you conning us all by pretending to be a player?” 100 accused, scowling at 456.

“You wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for him, most of us wouldn’t,” You stated, stirring the pot further, though this was merely the truth. “Use your head, for once, instead of following delusion.”

“She’s right. That’s completely uncalled for,” An X encroached, 390, gesturing to his friend. “Without him, we wouldn’t have survived!” His finger drifted to another player, daring a few steps forward. “And you! I saw how scared you were. Your legs were shaking,” His victim merely scratched his head, eyes downcast. “You should thank him, not treat him like a fraud!”

“And who the hell are you? Are you conspiring with him?” He sneered back.

“Rude. How old are you?”

“Older than you. What are you going to do?”

The mother from earlier swatted 390, intervening before it escalated into violence, grabbing everyone’s attention. “None of us would be alive if it weren’t for this gentleman,” She gestured to 456. For some reason, her plea and desperation made you feel bad, how tearful it was. “So enough with the greed. Let’s put our lives first and get out of this place! Okay?”

Shouts broke out between the voters, the disagreements bubbling to a boil. You found yourself trapped between the urge to join and instigate, or leave it alone, neither option sounding all that appealing. The flurry of comments caused you to question everything even further, skull bouncing with the two choices.

“I’ve played these games before!” In a moment, the room quieted, 456 ensnaring their attention, even you were stunned by the declaration—the expression on his face deriving more confusion from you, mind scattered. “I’ve done this before! I knew about the first game, because I’d played it before! I played the games here three years ago! And everyone who was with me….” He paused, eyes tearful when reflecting on those past memories. “.. died here!”

You blurred with the crowd, eyebrows pressed together, avoiding the confrontation to process your thoughts, split between the two options. 456’s words struck you, the chilling gleam in his eye, traumatized and scarred, was persuasive—but you still desired to play, leaving you at an impasse.

As the numbers thinned to the last chunk, your stomach churned uncomfortably, that nauseating discomfort you normally craved, but this time, it only soured your disposition, pure anxiety that fed off of you. You breathed in, willing the dread to fade in an instant, your assigned number called forward.

Each side eyed you, silently yearning for their desired button to be pushed, all for them—but you weren’t answering for them. You approached the buttons, not an ounce of reluctance in pressing O, the choice yours and yours alone. Every action you demonstrated had either your best or worst interest in mind—risking the wrong action to suffer the oh-so-right consequence. You smoothed an O patch on your chest, joining the lot of blue. Even if X votes overtook the O’s, you wouldn’t mind, you lived life however it occurred and would tolerate the results of it.

The last individual was finally announced, each side waving the symbols of their chosen side, chanting, and you watched the male stride to the front of the room, the final player, who would settle the tie—deciding the fate of everyone inside.

He paused, faced with the two, shining buttons, taking a moment to finalize his decision, hand hovering between the two choices before it finally landed on the O, the decision to stay overwhelming. His eyes scanned the crowd, the slightest quirk in his lip.

You were perched on a bed, simply watching the antics occur. You weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or not. You also chose O, but you remained internally conflicted—a part of you crippling with sympathy for those who wanted to leave, seeing their pleas and cries to go home.

Eyes followed the tiebreaker, hand supporting your face as you analyzed. Your eyes met his, to which you averted your stare. You weren’t scrutinizing him, you simply wondered why he would want to stay. You certainly had reasons, but what about everyone else? Money, was the blatant answer, but what else—they were willing to throwaway lives for their own greed, each one just as sick as you.

“You voted O, I thought you were gonna change your mind at first,” A voice interrupted—the side next to you dipping as Eun-Shin sat beside you. You noticed the X bright on his patch. “It’s like you forced yourself to press O.”

“I didn’t force myself,” You dismissed instantly, shooting a glare his way. “I just had my mind made up when I voted.”

“If you say so,” He sighed.

The pair of you thought about the occurrences of today, the bloodshed, and the future games to be held, a tinge of excitement streaming your consciousness at the countless ideas of what could happen—but glancing toward your sort-of companion, you couldn’t help but imagine his potential fate, and it made your stomach knot in unease.

—

guys, i apologize for the lack of interaction w in-ho, but i promise u we will get there 😩✌️

chapter two is out now

i need good copia fics 💔💔

Masterlist. . . all my published works :p

Let it happen - hwang in-ho x reader

chapter one

chapter two

chapter three

Ghost BC

monolith: copia x witch!reader

this song with this man. omg.